No Harm In Looking
by Queen's Chalice
Summary: Kara makes the most of a boring morning briefing by mentally objectifying the CAG. There's no harm in looking, right? One-shot. Lighthearted Kara/Lee banter. Loosely set in Season 1, probably between episodes 1.5 and 1.11. Vague references to 1.5, but no real spoilers.


_Disclaimer: I do not own Battlestar Galactica or its characters. This work of fanfiction is just for funsies, and I am not making any profit from it._

 _Author's Note: This story was inspired by the hot TAs from my Human Anatomy course last semester… When life gives you eye candy, make fanfiction!_

No Harm In Looking

Kara kicked her heels out in front of her and reclined to the best of her abilities in her rigid plastic chair. She was seated in the front row, just off the aisle, and she had ample space to stretch out. The CAG was getting ready to give the same speech he'd been giving for the past thirty-six mornings in a row, and Kara fully intended to take the opportunity to switch off her conscious brain and go to her happy place for a few stolen minutes.

"Alright everyone, listen up…" began Lee from behind the podium.

Kara let out a sigh and rolled her eyes. She knew she needed to stay frosty and all the rest of that clichéd military jargon bullshit, but Lords of Kobol was it ever _boring_. Listening to Lee drone on and on about flying in circles? No, thank you. The dangers were real, of course, of being lured into false security by monotony, but Kara knew better by now than to fall prey to something so… pedestrian.

Lee's repetitive little pep talks were really more for the kids anyway.

In all truth, Kara appreciated the lull in excitement about as much as one really could, given the circumstances. Things were kind of nice and quiet, and though she knew it wouldn't last, it seemed wrong somehow to not take joy in simple pleasures when the universe served them up on a silver platter. So she did.

And what a pleasure the universe was handing her right now. A slow, satisfied smirk spread across Kara's face as Lee pulled out his box of multicolored chalk and stepped up to the blackboard. Lee was obnoxiously proud of his special chalk, which he'd gone to great lengths in obtaining through a complex chain of fleet-wide trading. It was really quite precious.

The ten different colors of chalk allowed him to draw more detailed, color-coded diagrams, which helped to engage visual learners in a deeper cognitive understanding, Lee had patiently explained to her one night as they worked on CAP rotations and training schedules together.

Kara snorted, wondering idly if he'd been hitting up the former Secretary of Education for teaching pointers.

The real benefit in all of this, in Kara's opinion, was the way the muscles in Lee's arms flexed as he sketched out flight maneuvers on the board. After the first few times Lee ended up with chalk dust all over his dress blues, he'd switched to just wearing his tanks and BDU pants during his presentations. Which was great, because now the chalk dust smudged delightful patterns all over his bare skin instead of his bulky jacket.

A serene sense of peace washed over Kara as she watched Lee accidentally knock his eraser to the floor. He bent over at the waist to pick it up, giving the room a glorious view of his taut, round backside. "As I was saying…" said Lee as he straightened and turned back to the board.

All weirdness between them and awkward history aside, Kara couldn't deny that Lee Adama was an attractive man. It was definitely blasphemous not to thank the gods for that magnificent ass, even if it did have that unfortunate steel rod firmly lodged within.

A contented sigh escaped Kara's throat. Lee had his back to the room, bracing his left hand on the edge of the chalkboard as he began labelling his diagram with leader lines. He stretched to reach the top right-hand corner of the board, causing the muscles in his back to ripple. Kara had always been predominantly a fan of a firm butt and nice hands on a man, but Lee was making her reconsider her priorities. She had never thought that a back could be so sexy, but his was strong and toned, prompting her to imagine the various tasks he could accomplish with such a well-developed core.

Lee leaned even farther to his right, and the tendons of his left forearm, which was still supporting his weight with its grip on the board, twitched in response. Kara bit back a moan as her brain translated that movement into a very different one that might require him to support his weight on his forearms. She was pretty sure that the little furrow in Lee's brow that appeared while he was concentrating on his CAG paperwork would also be in attendance during these imaginary extracurriculars as well.

It was so inappropriate.

And so delicious.

It wasn't as if she planned to actually pursue her interest in his gorgeous body. She was just getting her kicks, and there was no harm in looking, right? Maybe her shameless voyeurism was creepy, and maybe it wasn't. She could only imagine Lee's fumbling, blushing response if he could ever hear the unwholesome thoughts that ran rampant while she mentally objectified the shit out of him every morning.

Seriously though, was it getting hot in the ready room? A light sheen of sweat had broken out on the back of Kara's neck and on her upper lip. She was pleased to note that Lee seemed to be suffering too; his sculpted biceps and deltoids were beginning to glisten with perspiration as well, highlighting the divots and swells of his well-defined upper arms.

The only thing that could match the beauty of that moment was the memory of the first time she saw deep space filling her entire field of vision as she sat in her Viper cockpit. Now _that_ had been the most magical godsdamned thing she'd ever seen, but the CAG's sticky hot body took a very close second place.

A lone bead of sweat escaped Lee's hairline and began trailing its way down the side of his neck. If she were to catch that bead of sweat on her tongue and trace its path back to its point of origin, how would it taste? Probably just a little sweet, with traces of that familiar musk that was unique to Lee, and ending with a crisp, salty finish.

Of course, that begged the question of what other parts of his anatomy might possess a similar flavor.

She licked her lips and shifted in her seat, propping her chin on her fist and resting her elbow on the little desktop. Her gaze traveled appreciatively from his head down the length of his body and back up again, drinking in his details on the way.

His combat boots had seen better days, but it wasn't as if he could just order a new pair from the Base Exchange. To Lee's credit, worn as they were, he still kept them polished to a high shine, though where he kept finding the polish was a mystery to her. His pants were in a similar state: faded and thinning, with a long row of stitches down the left leg from where it had ripped during a maintenance shift. It was hardly noticeable, but Kara had inadvertently caught him the next day in his office, neatly hand-stitching the tear back up with precision accuracy. The comical expression on his face - sheer shock, with a flush of red blossoming on his cheeks and spreading the to the tips of his ears - as he stared up at her with needle and thread in hand, had been permanently stored in the vaults of Kara's favorite memories.

Most women would cream themselves at the discovery that a guy was not only a total babe, but that he _also_ mended his own clothes, and Kara was no exception. Hell, he was smart, pretty, _and_ skilled at domestic duties? She had mentally added it to his list of redeeming qualities, but to his face, she had seized the opportunity to capitalize on his embarrassment.

There were few things in her post-apocalyptic existence that gave her the immense amount of satisfaction that busting Lee's chops did.

As formidable as the man was in a dogfight, he was too often reduced to little more than an awkward schoolboy under Kara's scrutinizing gaze and razor-sharp wit. It made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside to get under his skin like that.

Of course, even more gratifying than _that_ were the times that he returned her needling with a jab at her own expense. If his discomposure made her warm and fuzzy, then his cunning responses set her on fire. It was a rare occurrence, but in the instances that he forgot to be a boring tight-ass, the barbs they traded were the equivalent of verbal foreplay.

"...Starbuck?"

Kara was abruptly jolted from her thoughts as she realized that Lee was staring at her expectantly. From the way that everyone in the room was attempting to contain their snickering, she suspected that it wasn't the first time that he had tried to get her attention.

She smiled benevolently. "Sir?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "I was just asking if there was something you wanted to share with the rest of us. Whatever's on your mind must be good, judging from the shit-eating grin on your face."

Taking her time to stretch languidly, like a cat in a pool of sunshine, she answered, "No, I think I'd prefer to keep it all for myself. Sir."

Their eyes locked for a beat, and then Lee blinked. "Oookay," he said, drawing out the first syllable for entirely too long. "Then if we could get back on topic…" He started to turn back to the blackboard.

"Actually, there is one thing, since you mention it," she interrupted, not one to let a good chance for some fun to slip by.

He turned again, eyebrows raised in an expression that Kara liked to think of as his "forced indifference" face. "Yes, Starbuck?"

"That last flight maneuver you outlined, the one over there on the right-" she gestured at the board "-that doesn't work."

His eyebrows shot up even further. "Excuse me?"

"I said, that flight maneuver-"

"I heard what you _said_ , Lieutenant," he interjected, voice laced with irritation. "But as that maneuver is still merely theoretical, it's a matter of _could_ or could _not_ work, and therefore your claim that it _does_ not work is a moot point. Furthermore, all of the calculations I've done support the argument that it _would_ , in fact, work."

"While I understand that, _Captain_ , calculations will only take you so far. Just because a math problem says you can do something, doesn't mean that you can _actually_ do it. See, real life isn't that predictable. There are variables, and you can't account for all of them, no matter how many calculations you do. Sometimes you can do things that math says aren't possible." Smiling sweetly, she finished with, "And sometimes the math says that a particular flight maneuver is possible when it's _not_."

She could see his temple pulsate as he methodically clenched and released his jaw before responding. "Okay, Pythagoras, if you're such a genius, why don't you explain to us exactly why you don't think it's possible." He crossed his arms and shot her a smug look.

That bastard thought he had her cornered. Of course.

Kara stood from her seat and walked up to the board. "I know it doesn't work because I've tried it."

"Oh, well if the almighty Starbuck couldn't do it, then I guess nobody can, huh?" Lee mocked.

Glancing around the room, she could see the amusement on everyone's faces. The crew of _Galactica_ sure did appreciate a good episode of The Starbuck and Apollo Show. "I didn't say I couldn't do it, Adama. I said I'd _tried_ it."

Lee was starting to look pissed off. Excellent. "Either it worked or it didn't, Thrace! And if it did, then my theory's right anyway."

Kara smiled, grabbing a piece of Lee's beloved chalk and starting to sketch something on the board. "It doesn't work." Lee opened his mouth to start arguing again, but she cut him off before any words came out. "In a _Viper_."

"Excuse me?" he sputtered again, his eyebrows threatening to disappear into his hairline entirely.

"The wingspan on a Viper is just a hair too wide for its center of gravity to execute that move properly," said Kara, gesturing at Lee's cute little drawing of a Mark II. "A Cylon Raider, on the other hand, is perfectly capable of carrying out that maneuver, _if_ that Raider happens to be manned by the best pilot in the Colonial Fleet," she finished triumphantly, pointing at her diagram of a Raider in emphasis.

The pilots in the room burst into applause, and Kara gave a little bow.

Lee snatched his chalk back out of her hand. "You're saying that you pulled it off in that Raider you commandeered? But couldn't in your Viper?" he demanded, an unsettling glint in his eye.

Shit. He was going somewhere with this. Somewhere she probably wouldn't like. "Yes, Captain, that's exactly what I'm saying." The other pilots in the room held their collective breath in anticipation of the CAG's next move.

"That's fantastic!" exclaimed Lee, with far too much enthusiasm to be a good thing. "Then you won't mind reworking all of the calculations, and helping me account for the differences between a Viper and a Raider in this scenario." He turned to face the room. "That's it for today, everyone. You're all dismissed. Except for you, of course, Lieutenant Thrace. We've got math to do."

"But it's my off-shift," she protested weakly, as everyone else filed out of the room.

It was Lee's turn to smile in triumph. "I know it is. I wrote the schedule. That means we've got six whole hours ahead of us to make calculations and run scenarios. I'm not too proud to accept help from my pilots, you know. Especially when it comes from someone as skilled in the cockpit as you are."

Great. This was just frakking great. What was it she had just been thinking about liking it when he retaliated against her?

No, there was no harm in looking. It was the opening her big mouth _after_ the looking that always got her into trouble.

"C'mon, Starbuck," said Lee gleefully, punching her lightly on the shoulder. "Let's get started."


End file.
